


Le Mariage Anglais

by SayNevermore



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Drama, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lucis is a homophobic society because of the crystal, M/M, Worldbuilding, it shouldn't be so fun to make characters suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-11-23 07:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11397984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayNevermore/pseuds/SayNevermore
Summary: “And as a proof from the Lucis Caelum line of their commitment to this surrender, the heir of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum, will take the son of the ancient Tenebrae royal family, Ravus Nox Fleuret, as his husband.”





	1. Cotton Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Silver suggested this and it inspired me more than I anticipated, so this is gonna be a multiple chapters fic even if I only have a vague idea where I'm going. Hope you enjoy. <3
> 
> "Le Mariage Anglais" is a reference to a french medieval song where a french princess has to marry the king of England against her will - I felt like it was more fitting than the original title I gave to this fic so I changed it.

Noctis's room had never contained so many people at once and it was becoming hard to breathe. 

He was standing still on the small stage Ignis had improvised in the corner of the room, while the piercing look of his advisor checked out every detail of the suit one last time. He saw him hold a golden button between his thumb and his finger and vigorously rub it with his own sleeve; and he wondered if Ignis could hear his heart beating fast in his chest. He couldn't know himself - his entire body felt numb and his brain was filled with nothing but constant, endless, monosyllabic screaming.

"Are you ready?"

Ignis didn't look up as he talked, and Noctis didn't know if it was better or worse. How could he blame him? He had a hard time looking at himself in the mirror, too, lately.

"Does it matter?" he managed to answer, and Ignis raised his eyes but kept looking at his hair instead of looking at him. He fixed his fringe although it couldn't move at all with the amount of hair spray they'd put in it. 

"Well it is your wedding we are talking about," Ignis pointed as if it was no big deal. 

Noctis's stomach churned. His wedding. The word drowned at the bottom of his mind, melted into the fog that had taken domicile inside his head. Constant, endless, monosyllabic screaming. 

"Let's just... get this over with. Let's go."

He wasn't sure he could get down the stage without help, but he managed. He wasn't sure his legs would carry him down to the citadel's shrine, but they did. He hated that - if only his body had given up on him, he would have had a reason to escape this situation, but instead he was stuck here, condemned to see himself hand his body and blood to the enemy.

As if it wasn't enough that they had lost the war; Niflheim had to come up with their plans and schemes. As if it wasn't enough that all Lucis territories had to fall under the empire's always expanding jurisdiction, and the population had to become subjects of Niflheim, they had to carry their name in the mud. His father had been spared only to keep living his life as the king who had failed his country, and Noctis - Noctis wasn't even king yet and he was already failing them. 

 

“And as a proof from the Lucis Caelum line of their commitment to this surrender, the heir of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum, will take the son of the ancient Tenebrae royal family, Ravus Nox Fleuret, as his husband.”

Centuries of war had taught them about the wicked ways of Niflheim but this – this was too much. This was offense. This – hit too close to home.

He hid in his room for three days after hearing this. He could still remember the shock on all the faces, the way they all tried to keep their composure in front of Niflheim's ambassador. He could remember his own breath catching in his throat, the same way it was now, and he could remember himself starting to panic, right there in the throne room, in front of all the royal council and some stranger who seemed to take too much pleasure out of the revelation. He remembered trying to look at Ignis for comfort and Ignis wouldn't meet his gaze, and still hadn't since.

 

And what could he even oppose to that? They knew, of course, they knew what it meant. They were doing it on purpose - ending the Lucis Caelum line with him, put an end to the magic bearers, and there would never be anything else to challenge the hegemony of the empire. What were their options? Refuse? Resist? Give the cold shoulder to Niflheim? Watch their airships bomb the land while they stayed carefully hidden behind the Wall, ignoring the constant flow of refugees and the way the protests became more and more regular and violent? 

What was an offense compared to millions of peole dying, right? 

This was his sacrifice to the greater good - and it didn't matter if literally no one was buying it. 

 

He found Regis waiting in front of the doors and gulped with difficulty. No matter how much effort Ignis had put into making him look perfect - Noctis was convinced his face gave his terror away instantly. The look in his father eyes confirmed it - he tried to smile but both of them didn't really feel like it. 

"This will be over soon enough," Regis tried to reassure him. "You'll barely have time to register what happens."

"Speaking from experience here?" Noctis bitterly snickered. At least he could still sass his dad, even though his breakfast threatened to end up on his polished shoes every time he opened his mouth. 

He couldn't blame him for accepting - he'd seen enough of public announcements where his father held his cane too tightly, enough of his exhausted face after Niflheim destroyed yet another town they couldn't provide protection for, enough nights he'd spend with his council, trying to hold their own against increasingly ruthless attacks. And he couldn't blame him either for trying to keep his only son alive. There was nothing more sacred to the Lucis Caelum than their own blood and asking for Regis to neglect the safety of his child was an offense even bigger than asking Noctis to accept an infertile marriage.

Nilfheim knew that, too. 

Noctis grabbed his father's arm and Regis pushed the door.

 

Whoever had been in charge of the decoration for the occasion clearly took its job at heart - the usually stern look of the crystal shrine was softened by an accumulation of soft pastel drapes and flowery patterns, the rough banks for the mess turned into comfortable cushioned benches. The stained-glass windows, who reflected the sunlight in a variety of colours over the altar, seemed suddenly less dark than Noctis had always felt they were, and added a joyful and even optimistic lighting to the scene. And where the priest usually stood alone, talking to the masses, there was Ravus waiting with him, and Noctis felt his heart drop.

 

The traditional Tenebraean's white suited much more to the atmosphere of the room than Noctis's own Lucian black and the golden skulls engraved on his buttons. Ravus, with his long silver hair and his pale skin, suited the decor much more than Noctis. At least he didn't look at everything like he was trying to escape, which was both comforting and infuriating and Noctis briefly hated him, then hated himself for this. He felt the arm of his father let go of him and as he positioned himself in front of his future husband, he chased off his mind the picture of a deer caught in a bear trap.

 

The priest started talking but he couldn't listen, focusing instead on Ravus's face and how his eyes wouldn't meet his.

 

When Noctis went to Tenebrae as a child, Ravus was too old already to be playing with Luna and him. He would sometimes talk to the young prince of Lucis as his manners and education asked for, but nothing Noctis could clearly recall. How old was he, now? Twenty-seven, twenty-eight? Noctis was still asked for his ID sometimes when he was out at night with Prompto (who, somehow, didn't), he still couldn't grow a proper beard like Gladio, and when he met dignitaries they sometimes still called him "cute" as if he was still nine years old and clinging to his father's leg. The doctor he regularly saw to check on his childhood injury had never grown out of the habit of calling him "my boy". Meanwhile, Ravus was half a head taller than him and his shoulders filled his costume nicely. His haircut outlined the square shape of his jaw, and the serious expression he sported. His eyebrows and the shadow of his beard were clearer than Noctis had even seen on anyone else, and yet his traits still looked strong, sharp, like the ones of an adult. And he didn't give away his discomfort as clearly. He stayed still, quiet, looking at the priest from the corner of his eyes and completely ignoring Noctis who was certainly staring now. 

 

The last time Noctis saw him, he was screaming. The last time Noctis saw him, it was over his father's shoulder, as the small, bloody silhouette of the boy cried for help. This was right before Luna let go of Regis's hand. Years after, the girl's letters to Noctis were still full of regret as she mentioned her brother growing more and more aggressive and full of resentment, and how alone she felt when he started working with the empire.

Of course he wouldn't look at Noctis now. 

And of course, he couldn't understand. The stories were full of speeches about honour and protecting the blood of the kings, but he couldn't know exactly how important it was for Regis to secure his son first and foremost, even if that meant letting everyone else die. The magic of the crystal, the magic in Noctis's veins - it was so precious, so important, and only their line could carry it. It all came from the King of Lucis, deemed worthy in the light of the Gods. If Noctis had died during the attack on Tenebrae…

Well, now it didn’t matter anymore. They had lost the war. Niflheim, perfectly aware of how strong the power of the crystal was, had taken all the necessary measures to end the line once and for all. And Ravus would have a front-row seat to see the line of Lucis disappear forever.

Another thing to add to the everlasting pile of shit that was this wedding. Niflheim wouldn't just marry him to any man, they had to marry him to the one who hated him, the one who would keep a close eye on him for them. How had he taken the news? Had he received it like Noctis did, all of a sudden in the middle of a throne room, or had he given his agreement beforehand? Was he engaging in this as Noctis's future husband or as Noctis's future jailor? 

 

Because they thought of everything, right? They wouldn't let the fucking prince of Lucis wander around and risk ruin everything by getting drunk enough to knock up the first woman he's cross paths with; they wouldn't let a potential bastard child, just royal enough to use the magic, ruin their perfect, wicked plan, right? So they chose a guy that hated Noctis just enough to keep him under surveillance all the time. 

 

"At least everyone will hate it,” Prompto had said at some point, during one of his numerous attempts to cheer his friend up and make the best out of the awful situation he'd been put in. "This is sort of comforting, isn't it?"

Noctis, at the time, had not dignified this with an answer. Prompto, unlike Ignis or Gladio, had not grown up with politics surrounding him; it wasn't his fault if he couldn't come up with actually resourceful ideas. He was just trying to help as best as he could from his level. Noctis didn't have the strength to correct him.

Ignis, oh-so-thorough Ignis, had scratched his throat.

"Tenebrae is a matriarchal society. They don't put much pressure on the male heirs about who they choose to marry. Actually, it has been fairly common for them throughout history to let their sons marry other men if it was beneficial to their political positions. Even, sometimes, out of real lo..."

“Astrals, Ignis, shut up,” Noctis had growled, raising his head from where it was hidden between his knees, and rolling his eyes at the same time. “I could do without the history lesson right now.”

Especially, he could do without hearing stories of men loving each other enough to marry. And he could really, really do without Ignis explaining it to him; Ignis who had avoided Noctis's gaze as well since he had heard the news, Ignis who had withdrawn into protocols and lessons about traditions and the few cold facts that he could handle. As the prince's advisor, and raised this way since he was a kid, seeing Noctis ruin everything the Lucis Caelum family had been holding up for millennia was more demanding than it was even for the person concerned.

"What I'm trying to say," Ignis had insisted, "is that this wedding will probably offend the Tenebraean's... sensibilities much less than it offends ours. Ravus might not have many affinities towards Noctis, but this political arrangement won't sound as horrifying to him as it sounds to us." 

"Thanks," Noctis had spat at Ignis. "I feel so much better now." 

"Well," Prompto had cut them before they started arguing, "at least you’ll both hate it, right? Ravus and you. So... maybe he won't be so awful to deal with."

And nobody had tried to correct that. Nobody had the energy to explain to Prompto the problem he couldn't see as clearly as them - how dangerous it was that Niflheim's new dog hated Noctis so much and was close enough to him to know of all his whereabouts. Prompto was just trying to help.

 

His suggestion had not even been that stupid - everyone had the same. And poor Prompto couldn't know. Nobody could know. The last layer of irony, the icing on the shit cake: that even if Noctis tried to escape and find a girl to fulfill his divine duty and keep the line of Lucis alive, he wasn't sure that alcohol would do the trick. 

And this was probably why his stomach was tied in knots. He had dreaded the day he would have to marry a girl and have a child, and now he was at the altar in front of a man, and instead of feeling relief, like he would in his most shameful and unspeakable fantasies, it was the worst day of his life. And because Niflheim couldn't let him alone for two seconds, it was broadcasted live, so the whole country could listen when he tried to keep his voice steady as he agreed to take Ravus as his husband, and they could all see as he tried not to blush when the priest joined their hands and placed the veil over their heads and let them seal the deal with a kiss. 

 

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, do you accept to take this man, Ravus Nox Fleuret, as your husband?”

 

At least Noctis's unforgiving thoughts had let his spirit wander so far away from his body that the words spilled out of his mouth like someone else was telling them, like they meant nothing. He wondered for a brief second what would have happened if he had said no. What if he had actually ran away? Would the consequences really have been that bad? Would Niflheim have sent someone to get him, or would they have left him for dead? At least if he had died somewhere, he wouldn't have had to face the ins and outs of his sexuality ever again. 

 

The priest turned to Ravus.

And what if Ravus refused, now? What if Ravus told him “no”, what if he walked away and disappeared? Would Niflheim send someone to find him, or was he not that valuable to them? And could Noctis live with the consequences of this decision, how could he ever face anyone after accepting to marry a man and see that man reject him? 

“I do,” Ravus said, and his voice was clear and did not hesitate at all. 

 

These were the first words Noctis heard him say in twelve years.

 

Everything turned to blur.

 

The priest held his hands in the air, and Noctis remembered almost late that he was supposed to give him his hand. He saw Ravus move at the same time, Ravus was still looking down at the priest rather than at his soon-to-be husband. Noctis wished he would at least look at him now. If he could just show a little sympathy, ground him into the moment, make him feel like he wasn't a stranger to his own wedding ceremony... 

Ravus's hand was cold when the priest intertwined their fingers. Noctis's one was shaking. He had to close his eyes when the priest put the veil on their head. Ravus was taller than him so the thing didn’t fall quite right on his shoulders and – well, all things considered Noctis couldn’t say he had often dreamed about weddings in his short, repressed life, but still, this wasn't like the stupid romance novels in Gladio's bedroom. This didn’t feel dreamy at all. There was just a panicked kid and the adult who hated him, and they were standing too close, breathing in the same air, all the sounds of the outside were muffled by the veil. 

Then, Ravus finally looked up.

He has one eye grey and the other one was a strange shade of purple. Noctis briefly pondered why he had not noticed before. And then, suddenly, those eyes were closer than ever, and he closed his own in reflex, as cold lips were pressed against his. 

How stupid was it for them to follow the old Lucian tradition, the kiss symbolising the union of the bodies, under the veil symbolising the union of the houses? Maybe the crystal would call it heresy and open the ground under them, turning their bodies to ashes. 

The kiss was soft, and short, and no divine intervention stopped them in their tracks. The priest pushed the veil off their head, and Ravus was back to looking at the ground. 

 

“Congratulations. You two are now officially married in front of the Gods.”

 

And nobody applauded.


	2. Moonlight

Noctis came back to his senses when his glass was snatched from his hands.

“Quit moping,” Gladio growled. “The guests haven't left yet.”

Noctis turned his head to look at the party happening on top of the citadel as if he was just realizing where he was. The lighting was soft enough to create a sense of quiet and intimacy but the fireworks above the terrace sort of killed the mood. Half the guests were Nifs, the rest was all the Lucian court, and some of the Glaives, badly pretending they were enjoying themselves and not watching out for a sudden coup d’état. It had been surprisingly easy to avoid all of these people and find a quiet corner to “mope” all he wanted. 

“Don't care.” Noctis tried to catch his drink but his Shield held it out of his reach above the railing of the terrace. 

“I do. What do you think you look like? I've been watching you. It's your fifth drink already.”

“Fourth.”

“Fifth. If you can't count ‘em that's proof you should stop.”

He poured the expensive champagne down the street. Noctis tried to follow the fall but it was too dark. He sighed and slouched on the railing.

Right after the wedding, Ravus and him had been escorted to the treaty ceremony, where they stood still and dignified while the king and the emperor shook hands and took pictures while signing. The reporter asked for all four of them to be in the shot, and, seeing Noctis’s reluctance, Ravus had taken his hand and dragged him in the middle. He had kept their hands locked together while the photograph clicked on his damn camera three, four, five times to capture the best shot. Which probably wasn’t the one where Noctis tried extremely hard not to scream because he was going to be in all the magazines holding a guy’s hand. 

PR be damned; he needed the drinks to try to numb the sensation still tickling his fingers, and maybe he'd get a good reason to throw up in the process.

He really, really needed to throw up. 

“Nothing I can do will help me save face now so why does it matter?”

His shield shook his head.

“Because you're the prince. You're supposed to face defeat with your head up, not hide in a corner and get wasted. At least think of your dad; what are they gonna say about him if you can't behave in public?”

Noctis made a face.

“Thanks, Gladio. Nice guilt trip. Really motivational.”

“Noct…”

“Nah, don't bother. I get it, I'm gonna spare you my presence, being such a disappointment and all that. Must be real hard to look at me. Ask Ignis how he does it.”

 

Gladio was right of course, he was a little drunk by now and he should really have stopped at the fourth drink; but he wasn't going to admit it now, instead leaving the railing to carefully walk away from his bodyguard and to a direction that felt safe and free of people. It felt like everyone tonight was out to get him.

He majestically failed his escape when he ran into three people after an abrupt turn to avoid the face of Iedolas Aldercapt that he distinguished at the last minute through the glass of the fish tank.

“‘Scuse me,” he mumbled, keeping his head low as if they were not going to notice him.

“Well, if this isn’t the charming little prince of Lucis,” a woman's voice chanted, crushing his hopes of avoiding all social interactions tonight. “I imagined him taller.”

He forced himself to at least look up and seem vaguely professional. The woman had long silver hair attached in a sort of complicated ponytail and her black and red suit confused Noctis for a second – the paleness of her skin and hair screamed Niflheim origins but it was the first time he was seeing a stranger sport a black outfit like that.

“They don't grow them very strong in Lucis,” a male voice answered with a laugh on his left. His gold and red jacket with intricate ornaments was much more traditional of the empire and his blonde hair left no doubt. He was holding his glass of wine as if he was ready to drop it on someone’s shoes. “Everyone knows magic bearers have terrible genetics.”

“Degenerates, the whole lot. It's truly incredible that they held against us for so long.”

This last voice he knew, and the arm that casually landed on his shoulders stopped Noctis right in his tracks. Not that he hoped to go anywhere. The woman in black laughed shamelessly.

“Ravus,” she simpered, “that's no way to talk about your husband! Look at him, you're embarrassing him.”

She pointed at his face with a long, manicured nail. Noctis bit the inside of his cheek. He was going to die. They were all looking at him, now. Focusing very hard on not screaming and tearing up, he shrugged off the arm on his shoulders and moved just enough to be able to glare at Ravus.

“Last time I checked, your family bears magic too. I guess you're talking about degenerates from experience?”

He shouldn't have said that, it escaped his lips. They were really going to murder him now. Ravus raised a skeptical eyebrow. Was that the beginning of a smile on his smug face? The woman laughed again.

“He's got some guts, I like him! And he's not wrong. How's that little sister of yours doing?”

“Highwind, I appreciate your sense of humour but if you're implying my sister is a degenerate…”

“You started it, commander.”

Ravus seemed to weigh in his options and decided it wiser not to engage in another battle of wits. He turned to Noctis, then back at her.

“Alright, I can recognize when I’m outnumbered. Enough joking. How long is this party supposed to last? I'd trade that awful champagne against a real drink any second now.”

Noctis searched for something witty to answer but there was nothing inherently mean in that question and he couldn't find the trap.

And after five drinks even he could agree he'd rather not hear about the champagne for a while.

“Uh, I guess… my dad is gonna extend it to sunrise… it's kinda… kinda nice to see from the top, so…”

“Lucis truly has a thing for the sun, right?” The blond guy asked, with the look of someone who clearly just pretends to be interested.

He really shouldn’t have drunk that much. What the fuck was happening? Where was the trap, now?

“Well, it sure isn’t going to be a Nif thing,” the woman answered before Noctis could say anything. “You never see anything there except freaking snow clouds.”

She pointed at Noctis and Ravus with two fingers.

“I'm sort of happy for you two… I mean, pretty boy over there is not gonna agree but at least for once we gained territories where we can actually go on vacation.”

“We never have vacation, Aranea,” blonde guy pointed.

“And I'll have you know,” Ravus added, “that Tenebrae’s landscape is a sight for sore ey—”

“Dude, your country sucks. I've been there three times and I have never seen a day when it stops raining. Also you two might be hostages of the empire but I am still a mercenary and I fully intent to take advantage of my paycheck around here.”

It hit Noctis all at once, when she playfully threatened Ravus with a fake fist on the chest. They weren't even trying to humiliate him. They were joking. They were having fun. Three of Niflheim's officers enjoying a nice evening in the capital of the kingdom they had just put on its knees, complaining about the alcohol and relaxing next to the young prince whose authority had been wiped away by a single signature at the bottom of a document. They were all a threat for him but what threat was he for them? Nobody here was out to get him somehow it made things worse.

His head was spinning. Now he really was going to throw up.

He tried to leave without a word but someone grabbed is wrist tight and stopped him.

“Hey, where are you going! Don't think you can escape without sharing with friends, pretty boy…”

“I'm not… I…” Noctis tried to make gestures but the woman named Aranea was still holding him. “I've just… drank too much…”

“Of that thing?” the blonde guy said with a disgusted face.

“Yeah, well I don't recommend it,” Noctis slurred without thinking. Luckily enough, it made Aranea laugh and let go of him.

“Ravus, I like him,” he heard her say as he slid his body between a waiter and the guard at the stairs and disappeared behind the door. He was glad he couldn't hear what Ravus had to answer to that.

 

The rumble of the party was entirely muted from the inside and he breathed out in the semi-darkness. Before the party, there had been the speech of the king to the population, and before that there had been the signing ceremony, and the wedding, and all the organization of the wedding, and all in one, Noctis couldn't recall the last time he had been completely alone.

Gods, he needed that so much.

With the Glaives at the party, the protection of the rest of the Citadel was reduced to just the crownsguard. The deployment of forces was just a show for the Nif delegation anyway. No one in Insomnia felt the need to be protected in the last thirty years. Maybe the treaty would change that though.

He made his way into the darkness with ease – he knew these hallways by heart. His room was probably the first place people would search for him, so he avoided it and climbed down the stairs to the crystal room instead – the only place of this entire city with an actual security system in place and certainly not one where people came often, so, with a little luck, they wouldn’t think of looking there first.

And the glowing pulse of the crystal never failed to calm his nerves so maybe it could also do something about the champagne floating in his stomach.

 

It all happened so fast. In less than a month, his father had decided he wasn’t strong enough to keep going, that making sure his only son wasn’t killed in some mindless battle one day was more important than anything, that he could live with that marriage ; and suddenly the date was there, and now it was done, and there was no turning back.

Surely enough, Regis could have found him a wife years ago. Orchestrating things between children when they were still children wasn’t uncommon and it wasn’t like there weren’t any pretenders. In fact, Noctis had spent all his school years carefully dodging girls trying to approach him for his title. Prompto had helped a bit with that, serving as a sort of bodyguard when Ignis or Gladio couldn’t be there to scare the girls away with talks about responsibilities or threatening looks, but then Noctis had to balance things subtly so people wouldn’t start imagining things about them. Luckily for him, Prompto couldn’t shut up when he saw a cute girl – and he found a lot of girls cute.

Which, then, led to Noctis’s new problem, called “showing enough enthusiasm during girl talk so that Prompto wouldn’t start imagining things”.

Anyway, his dad had not decided to set him up with some rich girl from one of the biggest families in Insomnia, and It was becoming harder and harder to decide if it was a relief or if it would have made things easier.

At least, if he had married sooner, he wouldn’t be there now.

 

He entered the Crystal room and let himself bathe in the soft glowing light, let the quiet hum of the vibration soothe his nerves. Since he had moved to live outside of the Citadel, his nocturnal excursions had stopped – as a child, he used to come here – to be drawn here – the same way a child tries to sneak into the living room to watch the movie his parents are watching.

And, indeed, the crystal provided stories, images, to his young brain… glimpses of other times and other places concentrated inside the stone, past and future melting together… he used to think that, with the right mindset, he could control the way the flux came to him and find the parallel worlds where he had made other choices… worlds where everything went fine. A world in which his mom was still alive, a world in which he wasn’t a disappointment, a world where he would marry Luna instead of her brother…

“Prince Noctis?” 

For the second time this evening, he got dragged out of his thoughts by an arm passing before his eyes. This time, however, it wasn’t Gladio.

“Your absence has been noticed,” Titus Drautos said with a small smile. “I’ve told them I’d go looking for you.”

He had found him much faster than Noctis had anticipated.

“I won’t tell where you were hiding if you don’t want me to.”

“Whatever,” Noctis shrugged. “Just give me five more minutes.”

Titus leaned against the wall near him. Noctis couldn’t hope to go back to the state of trance and relaxation he needed to start seeing the images of the crystal, but maybe if Titus stayed quiet he could pretend he was still alone and that would be enough.

“So that's your hiding place, huh?”

Of course he wouldn’t be quiet.

“Maybe,” Noctis grumbled, trying to sound annoyed enough to stop the conversation here.

He felt a spark of guilt flutter in his belly. Titus was head of the Glaive, close to his father, him of all people could understand the weight and gravity of the situation. He came from the occupied territories, saw first hand the damage of the empire. Him of all people could know how Noctis felt, selling himself to the enemy.

But Noctis just wanted to be alone.

“This thing gives me the creeps.”

Noctis shot him a side glance.

“What do you mean?”

“That's… I don’t know, maybe that's a refugee thing, but… whenever I look at it, I feel sort of dizzy… to think that this is how this city managed to hold on for so long…”

"All for nothing in the end.”

“It forced Niflheim to negotiate. That's not exactly nothing.”

“But they've still won. It's all theirs, now. We get to keep Insomnia but… they took everything else. The land, and the roads, and the people...”

_And me._

 

Titus took a step closer and Noctis, feeling the tears fill in his eyes, leaned toward the warmth of the soldier.

“I knew you would understand, Noct…”

He smelled like fire. Noctis didn't remember he was so tall…

“What?”

He turned his head. The crystal seemed to glow harder.

“For hearth and home,” said a distorted voice.

Something heavy hit Noctis as he landed his eyes on Drautos and suddenly, everything turned to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make this shorter than I wanted but!! I have posted it before going on vacation so that's a win for me. :D Tell me what you think of the story!! It'd be greatly appreciated <3


	3. Fire

Noctis couldn't move. The landscape was blurry and turned upside down. He felt nauseous and his ears were filled with voices he could not understand. He tried to remember his train of thoughts but it had inexplicably escaped him - but he was sure he was thinking of something important, something he had to tell his father as soon as possible… 

He stopped trying to open his eyes and fell asleep again.

The awful noise of a motor drilled through his head and turned his brain into an explosion of pain. He squirmed in his bed, trying to escape the strong smell of leather that turned his stomach upside down. Gladio was going to mock him. He knew he had too much to drink – but not that much. This was ridiculous. He turned his head and something scratched his neck, and he tried to push it away but it came back in a second.

Noctis opened his eyes and blinked a few times while his brain processed the sight. 

This definitely wasn’t his bed, this definitely wasn’t his bedroom. Did Drautos bring him here?

Drautos.

Shit!

Noctis jerked out of sleep and the seatbelt digging into his shoulder kept him from falling forward. The metallic walls around him seemed to be closing in on him, the red light of his moving prison making it hard to understand where he was. He was still wearing his costume and he could feel the dried sweat on his skin, his hair sticking to his neck and to his forehead. He tried to summon a dagger – but then realized his hands were tied to the sides of his seat and weapons were useless. He tried to slide out of it, it cut through the skin of his wrists and didn’t move at all.

On his right, someone let out a pained whine. 

“Stay still… we’re almost there.”

He snapped his head towards the familiar voice, ready to bite; but Ravus was looking at him and he looked like a hurt puppy. His face was glistening with sweat, his hair was falling before his eyes, and his coat, covering him like a blanket, was stained with ashes and dirt. He didn’t look like he was holding Noctis hostage – the two Magiteks who managed to stand still in the middle of this incoherent hell did, though. 

“Where are we?” Noctis practically screamed – a terrible idea, he realized when a spark of pain shot through his brain at the sound of his own voice. 

Ravus winced as well. “Nif airship... you got hit, and I need healing…”

He was barely audible above the sound of the rotors. 

“Nif airship heading _where_? What’s happening? Get me out of this thing! Drautos? Dad?”

“Calm down!”

“Like hell I’m calming down! What’s happening?”

“Can’t we talk later?”

“No! Where am I going?”

The sigh Ravus let out was half annoyed, half wounded, and he shifted under his coat, clearly uncomfortable. Under the red light, he looked even more feverish.

“Fenestala.”

“… _Tenebrae_?”

“I need— we need medical care. Now stay still.”

Noctis wanted to ask why they needed to go as far as Tenebrae to receive medical attention and also what the fuck was all this, but the rattle of the ship pushed him back against his seat and his stomach made a worrying noise and he probably should keep his mouth shut until everything was not moving and smelling so bad anymore.

 

What had happened? He was just in the crystal room with Drautos and then… then nothing. And the more he tried to remember, the more his head hurt. Through the vibration of the motors, he could barely hear his own thoughts. And while he stayed still in his seat, the Magitek soldiers next to him just stood still, unbothered by the tremors of the landing.

He waited until everything was stable and silent, and the Magitek helped him get out of the restraints, but held his arms in a tight grip to keep him from acting up. His legs were aching, as if he had been sleeping in a wrong position, and it was almost a relief to be held up and accompanied to the exit.

Right behind him, the other Magitek was holding Ravus and he seemed to have much more trouble moving forward. His coat had migrated towards his shoulders and Noctis could briefly see him holding his arm close to his chest – and it was black, thinner than it should, like it was going to turn to dust. 

The strict hold of his guard didn’t allow him to ask about it as he was dragged outside, under a grey sky and a thin rain. The luxuriant vegetation that characterized Tenebrae’s landscape confirmed what Ravus had said, but it was hard for Noctis to make the sight match the memory. The Fenestala Manor was huge and his explorations with Luna when he was a kid were always cut short by the fact that his wheelchair wasn’t really adapted to the strange landscape, the constant crossing of bridges over misty canyons, and the even more constant presence of stairs. He had no idea they even had a landing strip, although it seemed obvious now that they would have one in such a land. And the grey concrete of it covered just a small space between the cliff and the white stones of the rampart, where the soldier was taking him now. 

Slowly, but firmly, the Magiteks guided Ravus and him through wall walks, gardens, portions of castles where Noctis recognized the intricate designs of Tenebrae’s architecture, and stairs and stairs and stairs. And if the constant training with Gladio was compensating for the poor state he was in, Ravus behind him winced at every step, then stopped making noise altogether, focused on keeping up with the rhythm the soldiers required of them.

“What happened to your arm?” Noctis grumbled at some point, but either Ravus had not heard him or he didn’t have the energy to answer, but he didn’t react.

What had happened, anyway? Why were they here? Why were they hurt? Where was Drautos, where was everyone? Now that he had time to think, there were only them inside that ship and Noctis had no idea where the rest of the Nif delegation could be. Was everyone still in Insomnia while they were here? Did his dad know where he was? 

He couldn’t keep his phone in the pocket of his suit of course, so now he had no means of contacting anyone and couldn’t know if they had tried to contact him. And he doubted Ravus alone, hurt as he was and with only two Magiteks, was trying to kidnap him.

Or maybe he was, and that was why he was so hurt.

Lost in his thoughts, it’s when he felt the Magitek slow down that he suddenly realized the sight around him was familiar. He had been in this part of the castle before.

And just as they stopped, someone ran towards them, steps resonating under the high roof, calling “Your Highness! Your Highness!” and disregarded Noctis entirely to rush towards Ravus. 

“I’m fine, Auda,” Noctis heard him tell the woman who was examining his arm. He wasn’t very convincing. “Get us upstairs, please. tell Luna we’re here and prepare a room for Noctis.”

The name cleared Noctis’s mind instantly. Of course, Luna. This was probably why they were here. So that wound was—?

“Of course, Highness. I’ll take care of everything, follow me.”

Auda had grey hair and a very small body that Noctis didn’t believe could hold an adult man for long, but still, Ravus dismissed the Magiteks with a sign of his hand and leaned on the housemaid’s shoulders as they headed towards more stairs. Noctis felt the grip of the mechanical soldier disappear from his arm and immediately turned his head towards the door. But the Nifs turned on their heels and placed themselves on each side of the entrance, instantly adopted a guarding position. Kidnapping or not, Noctis couldn’t just run away.

And if Lunafreya was there, it couldn’t be a trap, right?

 

So he followed the others, grateful for the silence and peace still reigning inside the palace which eased his headache and calmed his heart. Lunafreya would help him. She would tell him what was happening, she would know if his father was aware of his situation. She would help. She would help.

They turned into a hallway, then opened a door. He knew where they were before even seeing the room, and he helped the maid bring Ravus inside just so he could enter faster. 

The bedroom was still exactly like he remembered it, although it looked smaller now that he looked at it with adult eyes. He had no problem finding the bed where Luna and him used to sit for hours, reading books and telling each other stories. And there she was, looking back at him.

“Noctis,” she said, standing up.

He never thought he’d see her again.

 

She pulled him in a stronger embrace than he expected, but it felt so right he didn’t try to move. A weak chuckle came up from Ravus, and Noctis saw Auda bypass them to put him on the bed, where he collapsed instantly. The sight of his arm pulled Noctis back into the moment, and he gently got out of Luna’s arms, pushing her to let Auda leave the room.  
“You need rest, don’t you?” Luna asked. “Are you hurt? I thought I’d never see you again… ”

“I have no idea why I’m here,” Noctis admitted, still staring at Ravus. “I remember getting hit in the head…”

“How do you feel?”

“One thing at a time,” he heard himself say as if he had the slightest idea what to do. “I can wait. But you should take a look at your brother first.”

It took her a second to realize and she let out a short scream before rushing towards the bed, hands shaking above Ravus’s arm as she tried to decide if she could touch it or not. Noctis approached slowly and sat next to her.

“Is it burned? Was it caused by a daemon?”

Ravus tried to say something but at the same moment Luna tried to move his arm and his words turned into a pained mumble.

“Not a daemon,” Luna said. “Ravus, I told you not to…”

“I had to try,” Ravus finally articulated. 

“Where is it now? Please tell me you have it.”

But Ravus shook his head and Luna whined in frustration. 

“What is it?” Noctis asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t think Aldercapt has it either,” Ravus added, ignoring him. “But I didn’t really… pay attention…”

“If Aldercapt has it, we can’t do anything.”

“If the emperor has what?”

Suddenly, the way Luna looked at him wasn’t reassuring anymore and Noctis felt his heart sink in his chest.

“What happened?” he asked again, voice trembling.

“Noctis… General Glauca… Niflheim’s Supreme Commander…”

“You know him,” Ravus cut, “as Drautos.”

“He led an attack on the citadel and took control of Insomnia during the night.”

Silence fell heavy between them. Drautos did what?

“Drautos _what_?”

“Used you to force the King to bow down,” answered Ravus. “Could we just… heal me first?”

“No! Stop avoiding the subject!”

“My arm burned!”

The silence, this time, constricted Noctis’s chest. Ravus got his arm burned because Drautos attacked the citadel. It couldn’t be true. Drautos couldn’t have done anything to his father…

“Is my… father alive?”

“We don’t know,” Luna admitted, looking at her brother’s arm. Her hands were slightly glowing yellow. “The city is closed off. We don’t know more than you about what is happening behind the walls.”

“Drautos wasn’t a Niflheim agent,” Noctis assured. 

“He wouldn’t have told you that,” Ravus pointed out, managing a condescending look even through the pain.

“He was captain of the Kingsglaive! His family was killed by the Nifs! He was one of my dad’s most trusted men! He was—”

“Resenting your father for not protecting his land?” Luna cut a bit sharply. The magic demanded an effort that furrowed her brows and clenched her jaw. “Disgusted by the idea of a peace with the ones who killed his family? Power-hungry? I don’t know him like you knew him, but I’ve seen Glauca, and…”

“He’s seen it too,” Ravus said. “He saw him kill our mother.”

The memory of the burning garden flashed into Noctis’s mind. The Magiteks falling from the sky, the flamethrowers, the man in the armour…

No way was this the same person he had known his entire life.

“You’re lying.” 

“Oh, I wish.”

“But that’s—”

Noctis hid his face behind his hands. It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. Titus Drautos knocked him unconscious in the crystal room and then took control of the citadel? 

Titus Drautos knocked him unconscious in the crystal room. And when Noctis looked at him, he was… taller than usual… he was wearing that armour…

“… I was talking to him. I told him I thought that peace was bullshit. And he…”

_I knew you would understand, Noct._

“I am truly sorry, Noctis.” Luna said and he heard her as if she was talking from another room. Maybe he could just turn off his brain and let them deal with the rest of it. 

From far away, he also heard the door open and someone closing in on him. A small hand rested on his shoulder. 

“You should rest, Noctis,” Luna said. “We’ll talk when you feel better.”

“And we’ll know more by this point,” Ravus added.

But they knew more already and they just wouldn’t tell him. 

“It’s your fault,” he breathed, feeling a lump his throat. “It’s this stupid wedding… now they all hate my dad… and they all hate me…”

“Noctis…”

“I’m not staying here.”

He had to go back. He had to find everyone. He had to get out, he had to leave, he had to escapeleaveleaveleaveleave

“Noctis, calm down. Just follow Auda, please?”

_Leaveleaveleaveleave_

“Noctis, please.”

_LEAVELEAVELEAVELEAVELEAVE_

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_

He let himself be guided outside the room and in the hallway. His mind was desperately searching for an issue, but his body wouldn’t obey – he could only follow. The other room felt empty. The bed had just been made. He sat on it and gripped the covers with both hands.

Auda disappeared, then came back. She was holding a newspaper, and left it on his knees.

The front page read: INSOMNIA FALLS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was meant to cut later but it was already long enough
> 
> I'm sorry I promise nice things will happen to Noctis later in this story
> 
> (maybe)
> 
> (I have no idea actually)
> 
> btw you can find me at [https://domesticfluffsimulator.tumblr.com/]() if you want to hit me in the face


	4. Soup

Sunsets on Tenebrae had always been amazingly colourful. The misty waterfalls and the near-constant rain turned the light into billions of rainbows and gave the view an eerie atmosphere. In Insomnia, with the Wall, the weather was always the same and the sun disappeared behind the rampart long before the clouds turned pink.

What did it look like now?

Once he had managed to calm down, Noctis had read the entire newspaper article twice. The information it contained was surprisingly scarce - or maybe that was because Noctis expected to have news on things he couldn’t find here. Not one word on Gladio or Ignis, on anyone from the citadel, or even the civilians – a riot was mentioned between the lines, when the Glaives that remained loyal to the crown attacked the ones who betrayed along with Drautos. But how big had it been? Was Prompto okay? Had they all been trying to call him? Were they as worried as he was? He couldn’t even know if his dad was still alive. Thirty minutes earlier, he would have sworn Titus would never lay a hand on his king, but with what Ravus and Luna had told him, he couldn’t be so sure. And the same Titus Drautos had clearly had no problem knocking him unconscious, after all. 

One thing the article said was that Drautos had used him as leverage, crashing the party to force his father to surrender without fighting. It didn’t say what it looked like, Noctis could only imagine himself, unconscious while his father begged that nothing happened to him. It didn’t say if Drautos had shown his face, if Regis knew who had betrayed him.

Noctis only had vague memories of the attack on Tenebrae twelve years ago. There was smoke, fire, soldiers and confusion everywhere and before he could even understand what was happening, he was carried away from the battlefield, saw Luna let go of his father’s hand. His brain was now desperately trying to summon images of the fight between his dad and that General Glauca, desperately trying to remember if Drautos, if it really was him, had attacked first or merely defended himself… he didn’t pay attention, he was eight and it didn’t matter, but now it could be the only hint he had to determine if his father was still alive or not…

The click on the door made him jump and drop the newspaper on the floor. Luna’s face peaked through the opening, and when she saw him, she entered and closed behind her. She was holding a pile of fabrics.

“I asked Auda to find some of Ravus’s old clothes. He has always been so tall, I hope it’ll fit… I’m sorry, I really had to take care of him first. He’ll live. He’s just been stupid.”

Noctis took too long to realize he had to say something.

“Oh… thanks.”

Then, as a wave of guilt rushed through him:

“Sorry. I didn’t think I’d get there without… anything. I mean… I didn’t think what I said earlier, I’m glad to… see you again.”

“You just wish it had happened differently,” Luna added.

“... yeah.”

“I know. Me too.”

Approaching the bed, she left the clothes next to him and bent over to take the newspaper between her fingers like it was a piece of trash.

“Auda gave you that? I’m sorry… well, I haven’t read it… it was a fine newspaper before Niflheim took over the country and used it as propaganda… anything upsetting you’ve read in it probably wasn’t true, if it’s any consolation.”

She sat on the bed with a heavy sigh and made a point of folding the pages. Her eyes were glistening with exhaustion. Noctis pointed at the paper. 

“They keep calling him Drautos. You know? I thought they would use the name he’s used with the empire, but… nah. They’re just talking about a Lucian general coming from annexed lands, tired of the politics… it’s not even… wrong, I guess, but they frame it as if… as if he wasn’t a double agent, as if the empire had nothing to do with it.”

And he couldn’t believe it. They had to be behind it, somehow; they had been behind everything bad happening in his life. Luna sighed louder. From the corner of his eye, Noctis saw her bit her lips.

“You’ll have to ask Ravus about this… even he won’t tell me everything about the empire’s plans.”

There was a “but” hanging heavily in the air between them as Luna grimaced.

“It might not be what it looks like,” she finished softly. “You know, the reason why you’re here…”

Noctis felt a cold hand crawling along his fingers and grabbing his wrist. Luna’s skin had always been pale, but he didn’t realize how fragile she looked until he lowered his eyes and compared their skin tones. She was grey, like she was sick. And so thin. She looked like she would break if she held him too tight.

“It was the empire’s plan to put an end to your bloodline, this is true. But I… I was the one who begged for Ravus to accept the deal. I needed to know you would be safe.” Her voice was soft, low, with a hint of pleading, like she was apologizing for trying to save him. “I knew your father would also accept the conditions, for the same reasons. Keeping you alive was – is – more important than politics.”

“And Ravus agreed to that?”

“I made him promise to keep you safe. So when things turned badly, he took you out of the city and brought you here. And nobody questioned it because he was your husband, and this is what husbands do.”

The words made his heart beat faster. No, Luna wasn’t allowed to mention this part of the situation. He couldn’t face it now, not with everything else happening. This wasn’t real.

“It’s just a political move. No one’s fooled. Ravus hates m—”

“This was our best option, Noctis. I know how Ravus feels, but… I know he wouldn’t let me down. The empire always has its ways, but we did what we could to take advantage of it. Maybe this arrangement fools no one, but we don’t have to stand on the side while they play their games. If we can use it to protect you, we will. Ravus and I.”

So what, he was going to lie and pretend they didn’t want to push each offer off a cliff?

“What does this has to do with Drautos, anyway?”

He probably sounded ruder than he intended but Luna simply bit her lip.

“All I’m saying is… I don’t know Glauca like you did. But maybe… maybe the empire really didn’t plan on attacking Insomnia. Maybe that man just… knew they would eventually win, and tried to do what he thought was best. Like the rest of us.”

“I can’t accept that.”

 

It was so confusing. Noctis couldn’t remember seeing Sylva die. He could remember the screams echoing in the garden, over the gunfire, but he was already away when Ravus called for help. This whole moment shaped his life and now he realized he had merely been a bystander to it. He still couldn’t reconcile this picture with the rest of the story, still couldn’t imagine Drautos as the slaughterer who had so brutally separated him from Luna. Even knowing his past, he couldn’t even reconcile it with the portrait the newspaper made of him – of a wronged refugee, who saw his King abandon his population. His father and the council had done everything they could during the past thirty years to help the survivors of the empire’s attacks, they gave them houses, gave them jobs, offered them a chance for revenge; that Drautos only wanted to take revenge against Regis and not the people who had burned his town to the ground seemed insane. Even during their last talk, this was what Noctis thought they were talking about. Noctis, drunk on his fifth drink, would have taken twenty MTs alone, and he thought Titus would take twenty more.

But maybe Titus was ready to take the entire army all by himself, maybe he was ready to fight the world, and maybe – maybe what Luna was saying now made sense, in a way.

Shit.

“Everyone I know in Insomnia is probably dead because of him,” Noctis said. “I can’t even… I lost my phone. I can’t check on anyone.”

“Part of the plan was to… keep you under the radar,” Luna admitted. “I am truly sorry, Noctis, I am sorry that it has to be so difficult for you. We didn’t know it would happen this way. I didn’t think I would see Ravus honour his promise so fast… I can’t tell you what is going to happen now.”

Her hand was so cold, so cold. Noctis couldn’t find it comforting. He had waited years to see her again, but now… it just felt wrong. She never seemed so small in the letters she wrote him.

“You should sleep,” she said. “Eat something. I’ll show you the kitchen, and the bathroom. Just focus on yourself until things calm down. And… talk to Ravus, if you want. I know how he is… but maybe he can ease some of your fears, now that he is better.”

Noctis gently pulled his arm free and grabbed the clothes to give himself an excuse. He really was glad to see her again, but he also thought what he was saying earlier. He had to get out of here.

“Thank you, Luna. I’ll change first, I think. I still smell like the inside of the airship.” 

 

Now that he wasn’t surprised to find himself here anymore, Noctis could notice the lack of people inside the manor. He realized quickly that most of it wasn’t used anymore. When he first came here, Fenestala was exactly like Insomnia – the last bastion against the invader. Sylva had gathered her court around her, all the best minds of the country had rushed towards her like insects around light, and they had brought their families and their servants and these people filled the Manor with activity. Now, Luna was mostly alone here, with just a few people to take care of her. The lower parts of the fortress were still inhabited with people who didn’t want to leave, but the royal court had been replaced with passing-by garrisons and diplomats, who only stayed a few days. Ravus was the only one who kept coming back to see his sister. 

Auda explained this to him while she showed him the way from the bathroom to the dining room, while Noctis just followed along and hummed to pretend he was participating in the unprompted conversation. The clothes Luna gave him were not exactly fitting him, and he couldn’t get out of his head that Ravus had worn them before him, that Ravus, apparently, had to invade all aspects of his life now. In the silence of the hallways, the perspective of their wedding seemed even more pathetic, even more ridiculous. Why had he panicked about it so much? It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense. 

The cook prepared him a meal that made his stomach churn just looking at it. He tried to weakly protest that he couldn’t eat it all, but the guy waved it off and asked for someone to bring the cake to Noctis’s room so he could eat it during the night if sleep failed him. Somehow, this was the nicest thing anyone had told him since he arrived here and it eased his stomach a little bit. Luna joined him to eat too, and apparently could only ingest soup, which at least put some pink on her face. He didn’t have the strength to ask her about her magic, about her health – he didn’t have the strength to talk, for now. 

Ravus came down when they were almost finished. He still looked pale, and his arm was secured inside the scarf, but he held himself with the familiar self-importance Noctis had seen him display during the party. The smile was gone, though.

“Highwind should be checking out with us as soon as she can fly here,” he announced, sitting carefully on one of the chairs and gesturing at a man to bring him a plate. He was talking more slowly, too, like he was still in pain. Still, Noctis realized how different his voice sounded compared to the rare memories he had of him. Noctis had been a child, growing up to become an adult, but Ravus was a teen already when they met, and grew up to look so much more mature. “This might take a day or two. Aldercapt still has to fall back on its feet, too. His old brain couldn’t see that coming… Aranea said she’d cover up for me – I wouldn’t trust her influence to be enough, especially with the chancellor, but I guess this is all we have.”

“They will punish you for this.” Luna looked at his burned arm. 

“Not necessarily. With everything that has happened… maybe they will consider it wiser to never mention it again. I suppose it also depends if someone has put their hand on it after me, and who. I still have hope.”

Noctis suddenly felt extremely stupid – of course, he knew what had caused the injury. He should have known from the start. Of course he had never actually seen the effects—

“You tried it?” he let out, unable to contain himself. “But…”

“You wouldn’t need to hope if you had not been so reckless to begin with,” Luna gritted her teeth, pushed her almost-empty bowl of soup away from herself. “I had told you, I had warned you…”

“I know you did. Luna. Do we really have to do this now?”

She exhaled an exasperated sigh and stood up – too fast. Her legs shook under her weight. Auda rushed to keep her standing. She still managed to shoot Ravus a disappointed look. 

“We will have this conversation whether you want it or not.”

“Get some rest, sister. You have a long day tomorrow.” 

She must have been really tired to not try to fight more than that. Noctis looked at her leaving the room, still in shock. The arguing he could expect, he had seen it earlier, although it still felt uncomfortable. But now that he knew what it was about, he wished Luna could insist a little more.

“You tried the ring of Lucis,” he repeated numbly.

Ravus raised an eyebrow at him, but in his state it didn’t look very impressive.

“I did. I still fail to see why I should comment on the subject, with you or my sister.” 

“Because you’re—” Noctis gestured at his burned arm. “You know how our magic works. Why did you even—? How did that happen? My father keeps it on him. All the time. Did he—”

Ravus groaned so loudly it cut Noctis off. He stood up, more cautiously than his sister, holding himself to the back of the chair.

“There’s no escaping it, with you two, huh?”

“Just tell me if my father is alright.”

“He was hurt last time I saw him, but nothing he shouldn’t survive. His hand was bleeding, I don’t think he got his fingers cut off, though. But the ring fell. It rolled towards me. I tried it. I burned.”

“Why?”

Ravus looked down on him but there was no animosity in his mismatched eyes. He seemed to think for a moment.

“You won’t like it. I’d give you the nicer version, but I don’t have it in me to lie right now.”

“Is that what Niflheim is after?”

“The ring? Well, I suppose they would not spit on it, but I don’t think this is what they aim for. They wouldn’t have let me touch it if they really wanted it. I am not that important to them.”

Noctis stared at him. Holding his gaze was surprisingly easier now than inside the church when they got married.

“My sister thinks you are the key to saving the world,” Ravus said quietly. He gestured to Noctis to follow him out of the room and he had to almost run to catch up. “She says Regis received an omen from the Gods, that you are the Chosen King of the prophecy. She begged me to bring you back in one piece.”

Now that the night had fallen, the hallways were lit with soft lights on the walls, giving Ravus’s sharp face a sombre expression. He knew all that already. He knew since Luna had told him the story.

“You’ve seen it, right? She doesn’t look well. And this is the first time you see her – I have seen her growing weaker and weaker. The mission of the Oracle is eating her up. She’s the youngest in history. This means she will die sooner than any other Oracle ever has. This prophecy… this is all she has.”

“You did it for her. The wedding…”

“I would have been forced to accept. But, yes.” He sighed, stopped in front of a door, turned to Noctis. His eyes looked dark now. “I am willing to indulge in Luna’s delusions if it can appease her heart. But this is what they are – delusions. This prophecy she believes in will not happen. I have worked in Niflheim long enough to know that. Nothing can save this world. These stories you Lucians like to tell yourselves are lies and propaganda. And what your father did to his kingdom, in the name of that magic of yours – it needed to stop. And I will not stand here and watch my sister kill herself only to be deceived by your family – again. ”

”We didn’t—”

“Oh, please. What did you do to her? Write her letters? Make pinkie promises about saving her? I was there with her, not you. I thought I could control – control the power inside that thing, and... I thought maybe, if your magic is as powerful as she pretends, it could do something good, could at least allow me to heal her. But I was wrong. Your magic, it’s even more selfish than I thought. All it can do is destroy.”

Noctis swallowed the lump in his throat. He wouldn’t cry in front of him. He was just tired. He didn’t ask for all that. As Ravus turned to open the door, he almost grabbed his burned arm to force him to look back at him. But the memory of what he’d briefly seen, the dark ashes of the skin, the frail shape of it, kept his hand away. Ravus stepped out of the way.

“It’s my room, but you can take it. It’ll be more comfortable than the one Auda gave you, and it’s oriented west, so you won’t have the sun peaking through the curtains in the morning. Just… consider this compensation for dragging you there unconscious and…”

His voice died. Before Noctis could protest, tell him he was fine with the room he had been given, Ravus turned on his feet and left him here.

 

He wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted a short chapter to calm the rythm down a bit but... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I still have no idea what I'm doing, sorry.
> 
> Come scream at me at [domesticfluffsimulator.tumblr.com](https://domesticfluffsimulator.tumblr.com) if you want


	5. Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch me ignore all the parts of canon that are not convenient to me

Noctis woke up in a second. Where was he? What time was it? He felt like he had just blinked and suddenly the night had passed. He didn’t recognize the room at all.

It took him a few seconds to remember everything and calm his heart.

space was still and heavy around him. When Noctis lived in his flat, the noise from the street always found its way inside through the windows, like life's comforting buzzing. Even when he lived in the Citadel, there was the crystal and its strange, barely audible melody, never really clear but always there, coming from seemingly everywhere. Like the white noise of a television, Noctis never quite noticed it, but when he moved out, he immediately felt its absence. It had been hard to sleep at night at first, without the sound to lull him to sleep. 

Tenebrae, apparently, was nothing but silence. 

Noctis stood up, immediately regretting the warmth of the blanket on his feet. He grabbed the switch for the bedside lamp and turned it on, letting the room bathe in soft yellow. He found the pair of socks he has thrown off his feet before going to bed and put them back on, trying very hard not to think about the fact that he was still dressed in Ravus' clothes from head to toe and probably would be for the rest of his life now. Even married couples didn't do that to this extent - married couples were never two men anyway. Not in Lucis. 

Trying to distract himself, he walked to the huge windows and drew the curtains. The sky behind it was grey and luminous, almost aggressive, and Noctis blinked a few times. Shit, he must have slept a lot. He looked around and found a clock on a wall, near the door, telling him it was almost eleven. Had no one come to wake him up? Where was everyone? 

Just as he reached for the doorknob, he heard noise on the other side and jumped back, summoning a dagger as the door opened.

Ravus found him like this, in fighting position in the middle of the brightly lit room. He had wrapped his arm in a fancy-looking purple scarf and wasn't wearing the uniform Noctis had seen him in, only jeans and a large white shirt. He raised an eyebrow at him that felt like it contained a lifetime of sarcastic comments he was holding back.

“Sorry,” Noctis mumbled, letting the dagger disappear. “I... I just…” he shrugged. He didn't really have any explanation. 

“I'm sorry,” Ravus said, visibly forcing himself not to laugh. His tone was soft, though. “I didn't mean to startle you. I told everyone to let you sleep as much as you needed, but… Luna is leaving, she wanted to see you before departing…”

“Leaving?”

“The blizzard in Ghorovas has calmed, she won’t have another opening in maybe weeks or months.”

“What blizzard?”

Ravus shook his head.

“I’ll explain. Are you awake enough to follow me to the door, or should I tell her you couldn’t say goodbye?”

“No I’m coming, just...give me a minute.”

Ravus nodded his head and closed the door on himself, leaving Noctis alone to collect his thoughts. He wouldn’t get any answers this way, though, and after a full minute of just standing there, wondering if he had missed some obvious trap, Noctis finally stepped out, and found Ravus against the wall, waiting.

“Ghorovas Rift is in the mountains,” he started saying, motioning at Noctis to follow him. “It has always been quite cold and harsh, but it was livable, up until ten years ago, when Shiva woke up in the area.”

“Oh—you meant _this_ blizzard.”

He was still young when the story spread, but it had left such an impression on everyone in Lucis that he felt like he could still see the images on the news - first the landscapes covered in snow, the way it atrifically stopped at the border with Tenebrae; and only after weeks of anxious speculations, the cliche that confirmed that Niflheim had indeed, at the price of almost all of its army, defeated the Glacean in Her domain. And it had only made the fear stronger - for years after that the kingdom of Lucis still feared that the consequences of this event would be felt further than the borders of the empire, or that Niflheim would fancy doing the same thing with Titan in Cauthess. But the snow settled over Niflheim and never extended further, and the empire didn’t try to kill another God.

“Many of the people who lived here have refused to leave,” Ravus continued. “They lived for generations honouring Shiva and even _this blizzard_ can’t convince them to abandon the shrines. There are day when the wind is a little less ruthless and airships can fly through; Luna always takes the opportunity to visit them.” 

Lunafreya was wrapped into a huge, thick mantle of beige wool and surrounded by suitcases and Magiteks. A small woman in a suit and a man with a helmet in his hands were talking near the door and immediately tensed up when Ravus approached. Given the way the woman held her hand for Ravus to shake, it couldn’t be more obvious that she was one of Niflheim’s lapdogs as well.

Luna approached Noctis, fiddling with the golden pin on her scarf. 

“Sorry for dragging you out of bed,” she said with a sheepish smile. “But I felt even worse for leaving silently, so soon after you arrived; you probably still have a lot of questions…”

“Will you be alright?”

She shrugged.

“It is always hard to go there, but… someone has to do it, right? And I have Niflheim’s special bodyguards to protect me.”

She managed to make it sound so sarcastic and yet so polite that Noctis shivered. He could never hear her tone in the letters she sent him, and suddenly Ravus and her seemed a lot more alike than he thought.

“They follow you around all the time?”

“They do. Niflheim has to make sure Tenebraean loyalists don't try to kidnap me. I can never leave Fenestala alone.”

Noctis couldn’t help but cringe.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's not your fault.”

It was, though - if his father had taken her with them when they escaped the attack on the castle - if his father had held her hand tighter - if Noctis had begged him to turn back… she might still be Tenebrae’s princess to the people, but she was a prisoner in her own house.

“Cissneï is one of the good ones,” Ravus said behind him, dragging him out of his thoughts. “She’ll keep Luna out of trouble. And I intend on bringing us there too - but we need to find you winter clothes first, so our flight is delayed.”

“And Ravus needs to rest before going anywhere,” Luna added with a pointed look in her brother’s direction. “Noctis, please keep an eye on him until your departure. He has his colleagues’ phone number to reach me in case the wound does anything out of the ordinary.”

“It can have a bad reaction?”

“It is perfectly fine,” Ravus rolled his eyes.

“Time will tell,” his sister answered.

“You'll be careful, right?”

She smiled at him, eyes full of fondness, but it couldn't entirely hide how tired she looked.

“I will, Noctis. Don't worry about me.”

“Everything is ready, princess,” the red-haired woman approached, her back straight and her face solemn. “the airship is waiting for you. Highness.” She bowed slightly to Noctis, then to Ravus. “Commander.”

Lunafreya waved at Noctis and Ravus as the Magiteks started moving towards the door, and they all organized themselves around her like they had done that all their lives, disappearing outside. Cissneï closed the door.

 

The feeling of solitude hit Noctis in a second. Was he really going to stay here with only Ravus and the palace staff, now?

“Do not worry," Ravus said, breaking the silence. "You will not have to actually babysit me. I can handle myself just fine, and my arm doesn't even hurt anymore. Aren't you hungry? I can have breakfast made for you.”

He would definitely appreciate breakfast right now, if only because it would give him something to do. The whole situation was still bothering him, though.

“Niflheim... knows I'm here?”

Cissneï even called him “Highness”. As if she was expecting to find him there.

“We came here with one of their airships, remember?”

Noctis didn't want to look confused so he just shrugged.

“I sort of... assumed you had stolen one…”

Ravus laughed. This weird. Noctis promised himself not to make him laugh again.

“As a matter of fact, this is the one I came to Insomnia in. It was meant to bring us back at some point, though not here and not so soon. I just took advantage of it as we needed to escape.”

Before Noctis could react to this choice of words, Ravus turned on his feet. “Breakfast first. If I let you starve Luna will kill me. Follow me.” 

This time Noctis got brought to a small tea room with beige furniture everywhere, which Ravus informed him served as a dinner room most of the time since they never had the need for larger tables. He almost melted into the huge armchair and could have gone back to sleep in it; but the large window lit the room well enough to make it impossible to conceive. Besides, the prospect of food seemed to give him a little more energy already. 

“A taylor would take too long for the little time we have,” Ravus said as Noctis looked around, “but there are still shops downtown that should be sufficient to cover all your needs in a first time. I'll send someone fetch everything for you. And we can complete the set with old clothes of mine if we don't find everything. Once we know more about the situation in Lucis and what to do with you, we can take all the measurements and make you feel a little more at home.”

He would never feel at home here, especially with Ravus. He didn’t say that.

“Luna said you were keeping me under the radar... I thought she meant Niflheim, but it's Drautos you're hiding me from.”

“Yes. Until we figure out what exactly his intentions are.”

“My father is dead, isn't he ?”

Ravus stayed silent, then sighed, and when Noctis looked at him, all his composure had suddenly disappeared.

“Probably. But I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I have no idea. Last time I saw him, he was injured and in a bad position. But I can't tell what happened next, or what Drautos plans to do, with or without him.”

He took the seat nearest to Noctis, and put his valid hand on his knee for support.

"When General Glauca arrived at the party... it was not clear at first, what was happening. We just saw him in his armour, holding you unconscious; I thought he had found you like this… then you father ran towards him and Glauca held his sword up, and this is how we understood."

The door opened on a man pushing a tray and Ravus stopped to move and help him navigate inside the room. As he moved the food in Noctis's direction, he pursued:

“Everyone went still. I think all the Nifs, everyone in the room even, thought that this was planned. We started looking at each other, searching for someone who knew what was happening... the Lucians were looking at us too, obviously. And then the Glaives started moving. Regis told them to stay in position but they moved anyway. They had weapons hidden under their uniforms… I suppose so they weren't linked to the magic. They raised it towards us. Nifs and Lucians alike. Glauca said that they were taking control from now on. That we shouldn't move, or the prince and the king would suffer the consequences. It did have an instantaneous effect on the Lucians. And we were still too confused to react. I could see the king’s shield looking conflicted… he tried to get the Glaives to obey him, and… Glauca revealed his face. Said that they were obeying his orders. He repeated… that they were taking over. That Niflheim would have to live quietly. And that Regis had to surrender the ring.  
“Regis asked why. Then, emperor Aldercapt... he had not moved an inch, he asked - General Glauca, what are you doing? Just that.  
“Sincerely... I had seen Glauca's face only once, and it was during the treaty ceremony, where he got introduced to me as Titus Drautos. I was half-convinced at this point that he had managed to steal Glauca's armour and used it to frame Niflheim. But Aldercapt recognized him. Maybe... maybe it was just an act. The emperor is known for suddenly knowing or forgetting about you when it fits his plans. Or maybe they had a plan and it just... backfired. Maybe that guy saw a unique opportunity and took it. We are talking about a double agent, after all. One that had no problem killing royalty in the past.”

Noctis still couldn't believe this was the same person. He only had a vague memory of General Glauca with his shining armour, the liquid metal from Niflheim turning him into an invincible giant. But he had hundreds of memories of Drautos just being here, or coming back from missions outside the Wall... his brain couldn't take the leap needed to associate the two.

Ravus licked his lips.

“The wall... fell. Regis let it disappear and then slowly stepped forward. He kept... repeating… don't hurt him, don't hurt him. And asking that no one else moved. He had his hands raised. Then he started trying to... I don't know, bring Glauca back to reason? Explained that he did not know what kind of power the ring was about, that he would not get what he wanted from it... called him a friend. But Glauca did not even blink once. And he was still holding you with his arm.”

Noctis squirmed in his seat. It was against all the most fundamental laws to hurt the royal family of Lucis. The role of the Shield existed precisely to avoid as many of these situations as possible. When that drunken guy had tried to attack him and Gladio put himself in front of the assaulter and took the hit, Noctis had felt sick, and worried about him for week; but it had been right. He could not have expected the situation to turn any other way. Now, the fact that Drautos had knocked him down like he was just some random intruder was hard enough to accept, but imagining himself unconscious and at the absolute mercy of this man, imagining his father being threatened as well and putting himself in danger to save his son...

“I suppose it could have just ended this way and no one would have gotten hurt,” Ravus continued. “Your father giving the ring, getting you free, everyone leaving in silence... then suddenly, we heard the door slamming open and a guy, wearing a Kingsglaive uniform, ran and threw a dagger at Glauca's head, and jumped on his back with that... that thing your magic does…”

“Warping?”

“Maybe. Whatever. Nobody expected it, nobody reacted; and Glauca stumbled forward, loosened his grip on you. We all saw the opening, we knew we had a unique opportunity here... so in a second, everything was set into motion. Your father caught you, there was a lightning aiming at Glauca, the dignitaries closest to the door ran away. More glaives arrived and started fighting the other glaives, some of the Nifs started defending themselves as well, while the king's shield took on Glauca. At this point all of the Nifs were just awaiting orders, because this was our supreme commander in that armour and we still didn't understand what was happening. Then someone said to evacuate the emperor, and the emperor demanded we call the airships, and... you should start eating, you know; it's going to get cold.”

Noctis blinked a few times to chase the images of people fighting on the terrace, and looked down at the cup of coffee that had been served to him while he was focusing on Ravus's story. He grabbed it for composure, but he couldn't eat now, not while he was trying to make sense of what Ravus was saying.

“I'm serious when I say Luna will kill me if you starve.”

“Please, just... keep going.”

Ravus eyed him for a moment, so Noctis brought the cup close to his lips to appease him, and it seemed to work.

“Anyway... I could have just left with everyone, I suppose... but... well, I made a promise to Luna. And, maybe this is the Lucis Caelum's way of dealing with allies, but it's not mine. So while the others covered up the emperor and the chancellor and started moving to the exit, I ran through the crowd and tried to reach you. I got to your father at the same time as the shield's son.”

“Gladio?” Noctis jumped on his seat. “He was there?”

Of course he was, he was his Shield, but the last words they had said to each other weren't exactly something Noctis was proud of.The idea that he ran to help him, even if he probably was angry at him... well, it was not exactly comforting, but at least this meant something. At least this was consistent.

“I thought he was going to argue against me helping, but I suppose he needed all available pairs of hands. So we teamed up to get you and your father away from the battles while the shield was distracting Glauca. He led the way through the castle, avoiding the people... and apparently someone had lit a fire somewhere or activated the fire alarm, but the lifts were all blocked... we took the stairs, ran through so many empty rooms... we found large one leading to a balcony, and I said we could probably get an airship from there and evacuate us all... I even made the call, told everyone to lock the exits and join the balcony... but then Regis stopped moving, and we turned to him, and the door we had just locked behind us exploded, revealing Glauca in full armour.”

Noctis put the coffee back on the table. That meant Clarus was probably dead, or that he had been too badly injured to follow. He would never have let anyone track down his king.

“We didn't have time to think of a strategy and I'm sure your shield is skilled, but we made a mistake letting him attack first. I was too focused on... taking you from your father's arms, making it a little less easy for Glauca to kill you both in one blow... he sent that boy flying away in a second, still alive but too far to be of any immediate help, and then there was only Regis, projecting lighting at him, and... I saw the sword hit him, and then Regis holding his hand close, I didn't even see if it was cut or anything... but the ring fell, and it rolled on the ground, towards me. Glauca turned to me, and I had only a second to think about it before I jumped to catch it.  
“I thought I could do something, you know? Our chances were slim. I knew I wouldn't make it out in one piece. I had to do something. Had to try. It could have just ended there... and for a second, I really thought it would. I felt it. I knew why you held to this thing so hard. I felt the power run through me, my senses overwhelmed by it. It was incredible. Like a thousand armies awakening inside me. I could do anything. So I... burned Glauca down. And when I raised my arm and saw the fire... the fire took me, too. And the ring fell from my fingers again.”

Instinctively, Ravus rubbed the arm he had covered with the scarf.

“It bought us maybe, three seconds. But is was just enough. The airship arrived and the Magiteks jumped around us, I ordered them to cover us and get us inside... I can't tell what happened next. I... I know how it works. There can only be one king at the same time, and his blood must be pure. I... probably didn't expect the whole "blood" thing to be so... literal. I thought I knew.”

Noctis shook his head with a sigh.

“The ring hurt my father too, it's... how it works. Its magic runs through the body of the one who wears it and he can shape it, give it a direction, but it is an effort... our line is blessed with the protection of the Gods, so it takes less from us, but it takes anyway. It's what it does.”

Ravus should know that. Lunafreya's power worked in pretty much the same way, after all. She did not have the ring to use the magic, she could directly summon it from within her own body. But her body slowly decayed, just like the one of the king.

“And you swore devotion to that power?”

Noctis looked up to Ravus. 

“Didn't you?”

Ravus leaned against the armchair, looking at the ceiling. A sigh escaped his mouth.

“This is why we're going to Ghorovas too. I want you to see it.”

Noctis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Just listening to the story had exhausted him, the fact that it did not help him in the slightest to deduce if his father, or his friends, were alive or dead, made his nerves jitter. It would not change anything for him to see the corpse of a dead God, no matter what Ravus thought it could do.

A ringtone suddenly broke the silence and Noctis saw Ravus jump a little in his seat. He grabbed the phone from his back pocket and looked at the screen.

"I have to take this." Then, getting up and picking up at the same time, he took a more serious tone. "Highwind?"

He left the room in a few long steps. Noctis let himself fall into the armchair.

 

The food was cold indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys have a lot to talk about. Also I'm convinced Ravus is good at telling stories when he wants to.
> 
> Let me know if this story is enjoyable! 
> 
> I am also [domesticfluffsimulator](https://domesticfluffsimulator.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you wanna talk rarepairs or politics with me


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